Floodgates
by Does You No Good
Summary: Sequel to Irresponsibilities. Thane is finally brought in on the secret.


A/N: I was asked for moar. I created moar.

Floodgates

Inter-Relay Text Chatlog. Private Connection.

0100 [LOGIN] Thane

0114 [LOGIN] Kolyat

T: I admit that I'm surprised you agreed to this.

K: I'm surprised I'm awake.

T: If you would prefer another time, we can-

K: I'm up. I'm here. Don't count on a repeat performance, especially if-

T: …If what?

K: Forget it. Why did you want to talk?

T: For the same reasons that I found you on the Citadel. I may not always have a purpose in mind, I simply want to bridge the gaps created between us.

K: I get it. Regrets, dying and so on. I'd probably care if I'd seen you more than twice in the past ten, maybe even eleven years.

K: It's hard to get worked up about the death of someone you don't know.

T: You have every right to despise me.

K: Despise?

T: That is not the word you would choose.

K: That implies something detached and disgusted, and more calm than I feel.

T: Then what do you feel?

T: Kolyat?

K: Alright, you know what? If there's no point to this then I have to go. Try again when you've got something to actually talk about.

T: Kolyat. Please. Talk with me.

K: About what? Did you catch that article about match-fixing in the Citadel Newsnet sports section? The refs union is going under investigation. Pretty crazy, isn't it?

T: I meant about you. Tell me about yourself.

K: Why would I do that? I don't even KNOW you. You probably already researched me anyway.

T: I only know where you've been and what you've done, not how you think or what you believe. What you plan and dream. I'd like to know.

K: So the only things left that you don't know about me is the shit you SHOULD know if you were any sort of a real father. You wouldn't even ask if you weren't dying. What, do you feel like you OWE me this? What do you even expect out of me?

T: I don't know.

K: Yeah? Well go figure that out.

T: Please don't disconnect.

T: Kolyat?

K: You don't even have anything to say. That's fine, I've got one last thing. I'll tell you something you didn't know about me or Mom. Want to hear it?

T: What is it?

K: One of the earliest things I can remember is when I was six and you were gone. Mom was reading something and I was doing my schoolwork – she was sitting in the armchair by the window in the living room and I was on the floor at her feet. There was a holo of the three of us on the coffee table and I kept looking at it. I couldn't concentrate. You'd been gone for months and you'd left after an argument with her. You both thought I'd been asleep when it'd happened, but I heard it. I didn't hear it well, but she kept bringing up my name – you didn't say it, just Mom. I couldn't focus on my schoolwork, so I looked up at her and I asked her why you left.

T: She told you that I was away on business.

K: She always told everyone that. I'm not surprised you knew that part. Do you know the rest?

T: No. Please, continue.

K: I knew she wouldn't tell you about this. She was all about protecting you, even from me and my questions. She wasn't honest with me. I even knew it when I was little. So I asked her how much longer you'd be gone. She said she didn't know. I asked her why you were REALLY gone. She put down whatever she'd been reading and really looked at me. Kind of scared. She must've been worried that I'd found out, that I'd gotten into your data pad or something, but I hadn't even guessed it back then. I didn't know until last year. She still tried to lie for you. She told me that you were really only gone for business. I didn't believe her. I snapped. I stood up, picked up the holo on the coffee table and threw it at a wall. I yelled at her – "don't lie to me!" I started crying. "He's always gone. He's never here. He hates me."

K: She scooped me up and hugged me. We sat in a crumpled heap on the floor. Tears started streaking down her face and dropped on the top of my head. She kept saying over and over "he doesn't hate you, he loves you" but I kept denying it. I thrashed and screamed until I wore myself out, then I fell to sleep hiccupping and crying. It wasn't a good sleep. I woke up just a few hours later in my bed. I went looking for Mom and found her in the living room again. Sitting in that chair. Shaking and crying, even then. She had the holo in her hands. She was picking apart the broken frame – I'd shattered it.

K: I came up, took the holo and put it back on the table, crawled into her lap and hugged her. I apologised for making her sad. She didn't say anything, she just kissed the top of my head and tried to calm herself down. When I woke up in the morning, we were both still sitting in the chair. After that, whenever you left I wouldn't ask her anything about you. I did my schoolwork next to her chair every night that you were gone. We didn't pretend it never happened, we just never said anything about it.

K: Still there?

T: She never told me.

K: I know. When you came back, she told you to spend more time with me – that's the only thing she ever said that I heard about it, that convinced me it wasn't just a vivid dream.

K: She was always protecting you from someone. Nosy neighbours. Relatives. Me. Herself.

K: I have to go. Work in the morning.

0312 [LOGOUT] Kolyat

0355 [IDLE] Thane

0414 [TIMEOUT ERROR] Thane

x

"Is it okay if I call you 'dad' now?"

Vasaed never ran out of questions: there was always something new in his immediate surroundings to ask about, especially on the walk home to the Wards from his school in the Presidium. He'd spent two hours playing the 'why' game when one of his school's teachers took maternity leave. Kolyat just thanked the gods that he stopped asking 'why' before they got to the where-babies-come-from part. Still, his son never ceased to figuratively knock him flat when he opened his little mouth and quietly, levelly asked a question. "That…well. Do you want to?"

"Yes. One of my friends asked me why I don't call you 'dad'."

"What did you say?"

"I don't know."

Kolyat frowned. "You don't remember?" That was not a good sign. Possible genius intellect and a lack of social development were their own challenges. There was therapy for the social thing and the school was willing to give Vasaed harder work to test him, but memory loss for a drell was-

"No, that's what I said. 'I don't know'. I want to call you 'dad'." Vasaed paused for a moment, adjusted his tiny full-hand grip on Kolyat's index finger. "Is that okay?"

It was pretty rare for him to be found without something to say – almost everyone in C-Sec had something to say about his quick-shooting smart-mouth – but whenever it happened, it was always Vasaed who prompted it. Kolyat stared down at the pale green little boy, his son, and just wondered for a moment. Where did that swell of pride come from? The kid was acting like it was no big thing, and here he was – the adult, the father, the responsible one in this situation – feeling nauseous and overwhelmed and proud. "Yeah. Yes, that's fine." He grinned and squeezed Vasaed's little fingers gently. "So what about this friend of yours…you didn't tell me that you'd started making friends."

"I told you about her. She's the one who gave me her lunch."

"Ohh, the turian. She's not still sharing food, right?"

"No, she knows now. I explained it to her."

"Hah. Good boy."

x

Inter-Relay Text Chatlog. Private Connection.

1850 [LOGIN] Thane

1874 [IDLE] Thane

1876 [RETURNED] Thane

1890 [IDLE] Thane

1897 [RETURNED] Thane

1921 [IDLE] Thane

1929 [LOGIN] Kolyat

K: Late. Obviously. Sorry. I had a call-out. At least after that I've only got about sixteen hours left on this community service thing before Bailey hires me on properly.

K: I still can't figure out why it couldn't wait until tomorrow morning. That red sand will still be there at zero-nine-hundred.

K: Ah, you're away.

K: You don't have alerts on? I guess not. Stupid question.

1932 [RETURNED] Thane

T: My apologies. I attempted meditation in the interim.

K: No problem. I'm the one who held up the show in the first place.

T: I understand you're intending to appeal for sponsorship from the hanar embassy, to join C-Sec once-

K: Most people ask about these things instead of getting informants to tell them.

T: Would you have told me?

K: Now? I don't know. I'd hate to bore you by repeating the things you already know. It's kind of funny how you have the most information but you participate the least in these chats. Just where are you getting your information from, anyway? I know it's not Mouse.

T: My informants are mostly C-Sec officers whose terminals feature out-dated security.

K: I'll have to talk to Bailey about that.

T: Out of curiosity, why are you certain Mouse wouldn't be passing information to me?

K: Because you're not here. If he was in contact with you, you'd be here or at least on your way here instead of barrelling into batarian space.

T: Perhaps I should get into contact with Mouse, then.

K: He won't tell you anything.

T: Will you?

K: I don't want to. I need to. But you'd rather ask everyone else but me.

T: Kolyat, what do you need to tell me?

K: We'll try again later. I can't do this right now.

T: I understand.

1954 [LOGOUT] Kolyat

1955 [LOGOUT] Thane

x

He got shot in the arm.

It wasn't a dangerous injury. With a bit of medi-gel and a few days in a sling, Kolyat would be perfectly fine again. It was a training mishap: one of the other academy recruits got him when he was trying to find the heat sink eject and waving the thing around in the air. He'd actually managed a smart-ass remark on his way to the med centre: something about getting shot for the first time, not by anyone peddling red sand, illegal VIs or organs, but instead by another rookie trying to figure out his pistol. The guy responsible apologised all the way and, ordinarily Kolyat might've harboured a grudge, but when the reality sunk in he couldn't feel anything except dread.

A few inches to the right and the shot would've burned through his lung. If it'd been anything but training ammo, it could've taken off his whole arm. He could've lost his livelihood, or his life. And Vasaed still didn't have anyone else who'd take care of him.

At the end of the day, he left without a word to anyone. He went to Vasaed's school, picked him up, explained what had happened to his arm on the way home. Vasaed was full of questions about guns and C-Sec all the way back to the Wards. Why did the other recruit shoot him? Why did they need to learn how to do that to people? Did it hurt? Was it bleeding now? Kolyat answered as best as he could, but he felt as if he was barely there. It wasn't a real brush with death, if things were different he'd have just walked it off, but he wasn't thinking about himself.

Vasaed could clearly see something was wrong but, for the first time since Kolyat had met him, he didn't say or ask anything about it. When they got home, he just dragged his father to the couch, made him sit down, then retrieved the data pad and asked to hear the story about the Broken X3M That Could.

x

Inter-Relay Text Chatlog. Private Connection.

1255 [LOGIN] Kolyat

1300 [LOGIN] Thane

T: You were early.

K: Look, this is the wrong way to tell you. This needs to be done over a call. Saying it over a chat is cheap, and I'm not going to wait for you to get here. I've already put it off way too long.

T: We're already leaving batarian territory. I've voiced a wish to return to the Citadel.

K: Call first. Please.

T: Can I ask why?

K: You just did anyway.

K: Look, it's something I need to gear myself up for.

T: A matter of personal comfort.

K: Now you've got it.

T: I should be able to make that call in a day or two.

K: Thank you.

T: Kolyat?

K: Yes?

T: How are you?

K: I feel like I'm walking into the ocean.

T: You're in danger?

K: Okay, let me rephrase. It feels like I'm walking someone else into the ocean. Before you ask, I don't mean you.

T: You aren't endangering anyone. You aren't hunting anyone. I know you've put those ideas behind you. What is it?

K: Well…at least you're not thinking the worst of me.

K: Please, don't try to guess it.

T: You're concerned about disappointing me?

K: I never said that.

K: I need to go. I'm still 'technically' on-duty.

T: Of course. I'll look into booking the communication's room.

K: Could you try for a time after sixteen-hundred hours?

T: If that's convenient for you, then yes. I'll let you know as soon as possible. Your details haven't changed?

K: Still the same. Thank you.

T: I-

T: Please take care of yourself in the meantime, Kolyat.

K: You're the one in batarian space.

T: I've no intention of dying any more rapidly than I must.

K: Good plan.

1332 [LOGOUT] Kolyat

1332 [LOGOUT] Thane

x

The school was starting to give Vasaed more to work on at home. Half of it was aptitude tests: they wanted to put him in the next grade up. "Is that a good thing?" he wanted to know as he sat in the middle of the apartment with all his work scattered on the floor around him.

Kolyat sat on the couch close by, scrolling through his datapad: checking for messages, reading the Citadel Newsnet updates, looking at the currents state of his academy evaluation. These were things he did instinctively now. There was another tab open, where he was constantly jotting something down before deleting it all over again, then repeating the process over. That's why his reply to his son was distracted at best. "Yeah, it's usually a good thing. It means that your teachers think you're really smart. They don't want you to get bored in class, so they put you in the next grade."

"My friends are smart too."

"But you're the smartest." Kolyat looked up. "But, uh…you probably shouldn't say that to your friends. Telling people that you're smarter than them usually makes them mad."

"So I shouldn't tell them about going up a grade?"

"You can say it like that. I guess it's all about how you word it." He dropped the data pad on the couch, trying to avoid putting it through the rip in the leather. He'd probably never see it again if it went down there and even if it was a scratched, dented obsolete model that should've been replaced months ago, it still worked. "People usually don't like it when someone says 'I'm smarter than you'. It applies to a lot of things, a lot of aptitudes. No one likes being left behind."

"Oh. It affects their self-esteem."

"Right."

"So will my friends feel left behind?"

"Maybe a little bit, but you're not the type of person to make them really feel like they're being left behind. So they might be a bit jealous, but they won't blame you. Real friends accept that their friends are sometimes better at things than they are."

"Like how you're better at Skyllian Five than Officer Lang."

"…I've never played Skyllian anywhere near you. How do you know about that?"

"You took a vid call when I was still eating dinner. Officer Lang started to call you a lucky son of something, but you cancelled the audio before he could finish."

"Uh, look…it's a similar idea, but being really smart is different to being good at a game. Being smart is a useful thing."

"Yeah."

Kolyat paused a moment, then got up to go sit on the floor next to his son. "You don't want to do it? You don't have to if you don't want to."

"No, I want to. I don't want to leave my friends behind."

"Hey, you'll still see them. You'll just have new classes to make friends in, too."

"I suppose." Vasaed was only half-listening by this point. He was back into his work.

At least Kolyat never had to wonder what he got up to so long as there were still questions left to answer. He grinned to himself and got back up, patting Vasaed on the shoulder as he went, to sit back on the couch. Retrieving the data pad, he scanned the Newsnet again before closing the tab altogether. That just brought back the note he'd been tapping out. He took a long, deep breath and closed his eyes, letting his head drop onto the back of the seat. "Vasaed?"

"Dad?"

That brought a smile to his face. "Can you put that down for a minute? There's something I want to ask you about."

x

Text flashed across the screen.

CBM DE25

Connected: 1845

Transmission Log

Thank you for using Tyriel Advanced (TACC)!

The picture that replaced it was terrible, but considering the distance and the lousy screen he was taking the call on, Kolyat wasn't surprised in the least. He was just glad it was working. He wondered if Thane – or the amorphous blob he supposed was Thane – could see him any better or if this fuzzy picture was going both ways. Probably not. It didn't really matter. The audio feed was pretty poor, but it worked – that was the thing that really mattered.

"Kolyat, it's good to-"

"Wait." A click behind him made him frown and turn. He'd put Vasaed to bed hours ago, made sure he was fast asleep. There were _ways_ to do this. Even he wasn't cruel enough to just hold up the kid in range of the call and say 'hey, guess who's spawned'. Having his son wandering around in the background would make all this preparing useless, though he didn't feel prepared despite it. He paused before leaning to look around the corner, down the hallway, but Vasaed's door was still closed. "Sorry, I thought I heard something."

The amorphous blob shifted on its feet. "I thought you lived alone."

No point in delaying it. Kolyat straightened himself up and tried to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. "Yeah, I did. That was over a year ago."

"Your circumstances have changed?"

"Things changed only a few months after you left here."

"In what resp-?"

"Are you coming to the Citadel now?" Kolyat blurted.

If he focused hard, he could tell himself that he saw some degree of surprise in Thane's expression. The half-formed visual of his face shifted – either his brows were raised or he was developing an ambiguous growth on his forehead rapidly. "I understand that is Commander Shepard's intention. He insists on calling it a personal favour to me. Quietly, I believe he simply enjoys Dark Star Lounge more than most would consider appropriate for a Spectre."

Kolyat tried not to grin. "That's some company you keep."

"Are you avoiding your revelation?"

"Can't get anything past you, can I?"

"Please, Kolyat. I've been trying to get you to talk to me for almost a year now. I know that I've gone about keeping close to you in the wrong ways, having others send me information and relying on them where I should intervene myself. Perhaps that's why you've kept this – whatever it is – from me. I don't presume to know. This secret, you've fought to conceal it from me. I won't question why you've changed your position in this regard. I won't ask why you kept it-"

"Don't promise that yet. It's…I should've told you a lot sooner."

Thane paused. "You can tell me now."

Yeah, he could. But how? "You know…I tried since we last sat in a chat together. T o put together everything I need to say? And it's just impossible. I don't think you could even do it, and you talk like you're reading from a script. This is just-"

"Please, just tell me. Start anywhere."

"Promise me you're coming to the Citadel."

"I promise. Three days."

Kolyat didn't know whether or not to believe him. For the first time since he was about ten, he felt ioptimistic./i He wanted to believe that Thane would keep his promise. "Okay. Alright, that's-" It wasn't a promise for him, not in his eyes. It was something even more important and hopefully Thane would see that. It would have to do. He'd have to explain it properly, impress the importance on his father. He had to get this one thing right. "You can't disappoint him. I already told him all about you."

"Who?"

And just like that, he was letting everything simply fall out of his mouth in a disjoined confession. "He's only five. He's the same age I was when you started spending more and more time away from home. You don't need to be around forever, I just…I'm trying to teach him what family is. His mother didn't even care a bit. She killed herself. She had him, he _needed_ her and she killed herself." He laughed a little despite himself, feeling a touch of hysteria. "Gods, I know how to pick them, don't I?"

"Kolyat-"

He couldn't hear that voice, couldn't be interrupted. Not now. "His name's Vasaed. She gave him our family name. I don't know why. She didn't tell me about him. I only learned that he existed when she was dead, and the hanar found me and asked me if I wanted to raise him. I didn't think I could do it, I still don't think I'm doing it right, but I'm _trying_." He was _trying_. Why was it so difficult? He wasn't even making a conscious effort to talk anymore. He wasn't thinking. He was just talking and somehow it was still the most difficult thing in the world. How? Why? What was he even saying anymore? "I want to give him a real family. And…I don't know if I can handle talking to you, but he might need you. He doesn't have anyone else but me, and even if you're dying I just want someone else to care."

It wasn't everything he wanted to say. It wasn't anywhere near everything that Thane needed to be told, but he just couldn't keep going. It'd all stopped as suddenly as it'd come on. His father wasn't saying anything. He scraped his mind for something else to say, but it was just _blank_. "…Kolyat." Oh gods, his father's voice was scratchy. He'd never heard that from Thane in all his life. "I-"

He couldn't look, didn't want to be seen. He dragged a hand over his face, viciously digging his palm into his eyes to push back the burning in them. "Gods, I'm fucking this up."

"You're _not_." Emphatic. Certain. It was the first time anyone had ever told him that.

"If you hadn't stopped me last year, he'd probably be getting the same training you had. Right now."

"Don't consider that. Just be thankful he avoided that fate."

"I am. You have to meet him. I really-"

"I will. Three days. I promise you."

Kolyat could only nod. He didn't feel the weight of the secret anymore. He hadn't realised there had _been_ a weight, but now there was a different pressure. It was a lot worse, a lot more vulnerable. He hated it, wanted to hate Thane for it, but it was for Vasaed. He couldn't regret it. Wouldn't. But he had to get away before he started actually tearing up. He couldn't rein in his pride forever. "You sound like you need to rest. I should-"

"Wait. Please. Just one last thing."

"Yeah?"

It apparently took some difficulty. Thane paused for a moment, searching for the words he needed. Kolyat couldn't think of a time where he'd ever seen his father without the words for whatever he needed to say. What happened to his fluid, engaging speeches? Was he just…moved? Stunned? Just when Kolyat was putting together the questions – still nebulous and unclear in his own head – Thane finally broke the silence. "You didn't need to tell me, but you did. I won't question your reasons. If you can tell me, in time, I will listen. For now, Kolyat…I want you to know how grateful I am." A static-shaky hand moved into the picture and rubbed at the mostly featureless face of his father. "Thank you."

Kolyat shook his head. There really weren't any more words.

x

It wasn't like seeing him in Talid's apartment. For one thing, this was an arranged meeting. For another, under the harsh Presidium lighting Kolyat could see him a whole lot better.

Thane was ragged – there was no other word for it. His eyes were dull, his skin was loose and taking on a sickly sheen and he walked heavily. Had he been like this last year? Was this just a bad moment for his health, or was he really, irreversibly, one foot in the sea? Maybe Kolyat would've asked. He should've, and he knew it. But then Commander Shepard was there, a hand on Thane's shoulder and a broad grin on his face: "see you when you get back, Grandpa." Thane grimaced, not enough for the human to notice as he turned towards his son, but it made Kolyat's insides shrivel. His lip curled visibly, he folded his arms across his front and he just simply glared as his father approached.

"Why did I even bother?" he muttered to himself.

"What do you mean?" Thane sounded terrible. He knew he should've had mercy, basic consideration, but all he had to give was defensiveness and pride. Not selfish pride.

"You're ashamed."

"No."

"Don't _lie_ to me. I saw your reaction there."

"Please, Kolyat. Shepard has been very…trying, as of late. I told him in confidence what you had told me. He's been treating this is a joke ever since." His voice was wet and raspy. He was almost wheezing with the effort it took to speak. Kolyat tried not to let on how that made him shrivel up all the more – differently, that time, like he wanted to get away from the sound. "He's becoming increasingly insufferable about it. He believes I'm too young to have grandchildren."

"And do you think that too?"

Thane just stared at him for a long moment. Kolyat struggled to match him, blink for blink. There was something searching in that connection and it made him feel horribly iwatched/i. Maybe that wasn't the term. 'Vulnerable' went too far. It was just as though there was something Thane was digging for in him, and it was incredibly uncomfortable while he was finding it. Kind of like when Shepard punched him in the face. "I believe," his father began slowly, "that you have a great responsibility in your life and only a poor example to follow. I believe you've been forced to ignore your own personal beliefs to tell me about your son's existence, and you did so for me as well as him. I believe that this child has steered you closer to becoming Whole than I could ever have managed." Thane nodded, just once. "That last factor is the only thing I am ashamed of now."

Kolyat rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to tell himself he was exasperated, not moved. His eyes weren't burning, he must have just looked at a light too closely for a moment there. He wasn't gratified, gods damn it. He needed to think about something else, pull his mind back into the situation rather than the analysis of it. "He's still in school. There's a few things I should probably tell you about him before you meet him."

"Is he expecting to meet me today?"

"Yeah. It's all he's talked about since I told him five days ago."

"We only spoke three-"

"I know. Come on, already."


End file.
